Classic Poem

Love's early honey-moon is passing sweet.
The enraptured lovers wander hand in hand
Through the wild roses and the golden wheat,
And passion's glamour clothes the sea and land.
Her eyes outvie
The starlit sky:
Love is so full of light that nought else gleams.
Love would give light,
Were the world black as night:
Love would create its heaven of stars and dreams!

Then come maturer days. Glad children glance—
Upon the tree of life love's blossoms blow.
And yet some element of old romance
Has vanished, melted in the long ago!
The husband says,
“Think of the days
When hand in hand we wandered, you and I;
The nights of June;
The marvel of the moon:
In later days must love's old glory die?”

But with the voice that charmed his heart of old
And made the whole of life one moonlit dream
The true wife answers, “Life's tale is not told:
In front of us new starlit skies will gleam.
When toil is o'er,
Love as before
Will find us, sweetheart, claim us for his own.
Love's autumn day,
Aye! though our hair be grey,
Shall match the sweetness of our summer flown.”